


we're friends when you're on your knees

by becauseleeds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daddy Kink, Harry whimpers a lot idk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, it's my first fic bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becauseleeds/pseuds/becauseleeds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Would have to charge Mummy Twist for two lessons if we keep going, my services don’t come cheap, Harold” He says with a wink, putting his feet up and resting his arms along the length of the couch. He knows he’s being a shit, sees it in the way his student colors.</p><p>Louis teaches piano and Harry fucks himself onto his tongue. That is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're friends when you're on your knees

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'VE EVER FINISHED ANYTHING  
> so if you wanna leave comments/criticisms i'll give you oral. holla at your girl @goodlittleharry (fitting, i know)
> 
> title from a fall out boy song, obviously.

Harry huffs a breath onto the passenger’s seat window, traces his name in the condensation as he sits in his mum's car purposely ignoring her chattering.

“- be there a little late so don’t be a nuisance. Harry? Have you been listening?” Harry turns to his mum and smiles tightly, “yeah, ‘m staying a little longer at Mr. Tomlinson’s because you’re working late.” Anne shakes her head before the mobile in her lap starts vibrating, to which she hastily answers and Harry turns back to the window, writing out the patterns to a Sonatina he’s been memorizing, fingers turning numb against the cold. He swears today's the day he  _tries_.

Ten minutes later they’re pulling up in front of his piano teacher’s house and his heart speeds up. Harry walks into Mr. Tomlinson’s house just as the snow starts to pick up, small hands clutching his sheet music to his chest so they don’t soak, and waves to his mum as she drives off. He walks down the hall to the lounge where he hears a heavy, fast jazz song; he must be the only student this evening. He turns the corner and sat on the bench in soft trackies and sleeves rolled up on his crewneck sweater is Mr. Tomlinson, fringe falling below his eyebrows and fingers moving swiftly across the keys. Harry feels his palms sweat as he pays close attention to the way his teacher’s hands cross one another, graceful and strong. He feels his cock twitch at the way Mr. Tomlinson's hands flex and tongue flicks out in concentration. Mr Tomlinson doesn’t look up from the piano until Harry approaches his side, letting out a quiet sigh as he quickly presses his crotch onto the side of the piano.

“Oh, didn’t hear you come in, mate.” Mr Tomlinson turns to face Harry, hands dropping into his lap as Harry’s move away and smiles genuinely.

“Hi, erm, did you compose that? It’s very pretty.” _You’re very pretty._

His teacher laughs and Harry immediately feels his toes unfreeze.

“Yeah, it’s something I wrote ages ago. It kinda stuck.” he presses his lips together. “C’mon then, your mum’s not paying me to take compliments from cute boys; I’ll put the kettle on and you can warm up with some scales. Did you want mint tea this time?” Harry nods shyly, untangling the sheet music from his coat and sneaking a look at Mr Tomlinson’s bum as he scatters into the kitchen.

He finishes playing his scales almost robotically, thinking about whether tan skin tastes as good as it looks just as his teacher walks back into the lounge, two mugs in tow.

“Excellent, Harry. That was really, really good. For next week, let’s try two octaves yeah? Erm, maybe also try going up to B flat. You haven’t got to memorize up to there, just do two octaves,” Harry nods and Mr Tomlinson notices his hands are shaking as he pulls out the sheet music to try the sonatina he’s been practicing. In his head Harry imagines rousing Mr Tomlinson with a great rendition of his assigned piece and being rewarded with a cock in his mouth. He salivates just thinking about it.

He leaves the sheet closed to play from memory and Mr Tomlinson raises his eyebrows, impressed. He gets through the first two pages effortlessly but stumbles on the third and holds his breath in frustration.

“‘m sorry, my hands are cold.” He rubs his hands against his thighs to heat them with friction, sliding his jeans closer to his dick and he bites back a groan.  Picking up again his fingers falter at the same spot and he can feel his teachers gaze sharp on his hands, or maybe his crotch. He starts to bite his lip and tries a third time but with no prevail. He’s sort of embarrassed to look up at his teacher, so they sit there in silence.

“Hey, are you alright?” Mr Tomlinson’s eyebrows are now furrowed with worry and Harry feels stupid.

“Yeah, no I’m fine Mr. Tomlinson. I -” He loses his train of thought and his breathing increases as a warm hand presses into his thigh.

“Please, Harry, you can call me Louis. You’re making me feel a hell of a lot older than I am when you go around calling me Mr. Tomlinson.” Louis smiles down at him and Harry isn’t paying attention. “How old do you think I am”  which doesn’t sound like a question and Harry whispers, “too old for me” before catching himself. He looks up at Louis with moon eyes and Louis’ smirking. “”m only 22, could be your big brother,” he says to himself, lips faltering. They stare at each other for a moment and Louis watches Harry flick his tongue across his bottom lip, moon eyes turned into planets.

“We’ve only another twenty minutes left, mate, can’t waste ‘em!” Louis stands abruptly to put the mugs in the kitchen as Harry tells him, with cheeks as rosy as his bitten lips, that his mum will be late picking him up.   
“Oh, alright,” he replies, “better makes us another cup, then.” He uses this as an excuse to step into the kitchen for a few moments, checking over his shoulder to see Harry opening up the sonatina sheet. He sets the cups on the counter and grips the granite, breathing through his nose. Louis shouldn’t want Harry the way he does, that’s his fucking student he’s ogling. Harry’s probably, what, 15? Louis misesrably admits he's never wanted to ruin anyone the way he wants to tear this boy apart and it’s fucking with his morale. So sue him, he can’t help reaching out to touch when Harry walks into the house with a sinful mouth and bottlecap eyes, as pale as the snow fallen down on his front porch. The kid looks like fucking Christmas. After deciding to bite his tongue and wait it out, he adjusts himself and marches into the lounge, tea forgotten. Whatever happens, happens.

Twenty minutes of Harry finishing the sonatina and getting through half of a Concierto, Louis suggests they turn on the telly.

“Would have to charge Mummy Twist for two lessons if we keep going, my services don’t come cheap, Harold” He says with a wink, putting his feet up and resting his arms along the length of the couch. He knows he’s being a shit, sees it in the way his student colors and purposely sits in the middle of the couch. Harry blushes and sits down pulling a cushion into his lap. The pressure feels great on Harry’s semi-hard cock and with Louis inches away, he can practically feel the heat.

They barely pay attention to a romcom in the background as Louis tells Harry of his schooling, of his sisters back home, of how badly he wants to conduct. Harry stares at him like he's hung the stars and nods animately, whispering his thoughts into Louis’ bicep and grinning so hard his cheeks concave an inch. Louis wants to lick the dimples.

When Anne calls to tell them she needs about another hour before she can be on her way, they’ve gravitated so closely to one another that they’re lined hip to knee to ankle, watching a film about the strangest animals on earth. It kinda freaks Harry out if he’s honest, it makes his palms feel cold and sweaty and his legs twitch uncomfortably. Louis notices after the third time he whimpers into the cushion, leaning into him and pulling his knees to his chest

He frowns, “Harry...you okay? We can change it, if you’d like. I’m not one for slimy animals either but the cat one, that was pretty cool, yeah? A female cat that has a penis looking thing-” but Harry’s shaking his head almost violently,

“No, it’s alright. My hands are just cold and feeling weird.” Of course this worries Louis, being a piano teacher means hands are very important. And stuff. Gotta exam them for the well being of his income.

“Lemme see ‘em,” he says and he cups Harry’s small hands into his slightly larger ones, leaning in and puffing hot breaths into Harry’s palms, looking up at him through thick lashes. If anyone mentions a brush of his lips against his student’s fingertips, he’d deny it with a barrel to his temple. Harry gulps audibly. He really wants to kiss his teacher, and that makes his hands feel colder.

“Better?” Louis asks. Harry blinks at him with coin sized green eyes and a dark curl falls onto his face as his mouth hangs open. Louis blinks twice before reaching a delicate hand and tucking the curl behind his ear. Harry licks his lips and counts to three then -

Harry kisses Mr Tomlinson’s mouth hesitantly, pecking a couple of times before realizing Louis isn’t kissing back. He pulls away and frowns.

“‘m 14, ‘m not a baby.” He pouts and looks up at him, kissing tentatively while again, Louis doesn’t react.

“My mum won’t be back for ages, Lou." He whines, "I see the way you look at me. I know you wanna kiss me back -” and then there’s a mouth on his trying to keep their lips attached. The message doesn’t relay and Harry keeps trying to talk until Louis cups the back of his neck with a little more force than necessary. He reaches for Louis’ downy hair as teeth nip at his lips when he feels one hand pin both of his into his own lap. Louis brushes their hands across Harry’s crotch, making him gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his student’s mouth, counting teeth, tasting corners and eliciting a filthy whimper. He knew he wouldn’t’ve been able to resist and sends a thanks to Anne for being late. They kiss sloppily and desperately, Harry rutting up against his own hands pinned to his lap. Louis pulls back and stares at his blown eyes, almost black with dilation.  
“Harry,” he tries, voice rough, “is this alright? I - is this ok with you? You want this?” But Harry was nodding his head viciously before the question had finished, punctuation his agreement with another embarrassingly porn-like whimper and arch of his back.

“Please, daddy, please. Give it to me good.” And he says this almost manically, eyes searching Louis’ for approval and Louis chokes.   
“Yeah, ok, yeah” He stammers as Harry reaches for Louis’ mouth. They kiss for what feels like ages, Harry murmuring soft “daddy”s under his breath and licking at Louis’ lips. He groans and presses his free hand onto his own hard cock through his trackies, the material not giving him any release.

He grabs at Harry’s soft hips, pulls him into his own lap so that Harry’s knees bracket him and his cock sits on his thigh. Immediately, the younger boy starts grinding down, hands still obediently linked together inside of Louis’ palm.   
“I’ll be good, daddy, gonna be so good for you, please” he chants into the hollow of Louis’ neck and Louis shivers. “See, haven’t touched myself, only want you. Wanna feel your hands on me, only you daddy -” and he’s lifted his student into his arms, elbows under knees and kisses Harry quiet, walking them into his bedroom and kicking the door shut behind him.

Louis lays him on the bed onto his back, stares down at him at he mumbles “Gotta stop talking, Harry, no talking until I say, alright?” He’s broken a sweat and his hands feel hot. He reaches for Harry's sweater and pulls it off, the boy lifting his arms to help. He’s wearing a plain t shirt underneath, perky nipples pebbling through the fabric and Louis leans over to nibble at them. Harry pants into Louis’ hair as he bites down harder and begins taking off his trousers.  
“Take your shirt off,” Louis demands, removing his mouth from Harry’s chest, hands working his sweats down his own legs and tossing his crew neck to the side. He holds himself at the base of cock, squeezing hard enough to take some pressure off as Harry gets naked in front of him. He’s all soft skin, lean muscle underneath childish curves.

Once Harry’s bare he sits up against the headboard, eyes still wide and hand rubbing down his belly. Louis thinks he looks like sweet cream, bets his life he tastes like it too. He leans down to lick at Harry’s thighs, “taste so good” he murmurs against his hipbone and Harry opens his mouth to preen, needs to say how good it feels but bites his knuckles instead. Louis kisses up his chest, pecking Harry’s closed eyes lastly and asking what his baby wants, tells him to talk.

“Want your cock in mouth, ‘s all I think about. Fuck, please put your cock in my mouth” he punctuates his request by opening his mouth wide, tongue falling out and curving obscenely.

“Fuck, ok,” Louis kisses him roughly before crawling up his body on his knees until the tip of his cock touches Harry’s tongue and his knees buckle. Harry sucks him into his mouth, eyes watering and Louis breathes deeply through his nose, hands on the wall and willing himself not to thrust violently into the heat of his student’s mouth. He grunts softly, open lipped and eyes closed as Harry reaches his small hands around him to grapple his arse, pulling him closer into the slick wet of his mouth. He stops sucking and licking and looks up at Louis with blinking eyes, lips pouting and waiting.

“What? What is it?” Louis feels animalistic, wants his dick back in his mouth now. But Harry keeps blinking up at him. “Fuck’s sake Harry, yes you can talk what’s the matter?”

“You can fuck my mouth,” he whispers into the side of Louis’ cock, licking at it in between words, “be rough with me, yeah? Wanna feel you in my throat, daddy.”

Louis gasps a “thank fuck” as he leads himself back into Harry’s mouth, fucking it in earnest now. He hears Harry choke a little and when he pulls back to ask if he’s alright, the pressure of Harry’s hands on his bum pushes him forward and he shakes his head, willing him to keep fucking.   
Harry curves his tongue along the bottom of Louis’ cock and sucks hard enough to make Louis’ arms give out and rest his forehead against the wall. He starts moaning around Louis and Louis pushes in so far deep, stays there for a few seconds and comes hard down Harry’s throat and Harry nods his head like its the sweetest thing he’s ever eaten.

He pulls his cock out of Harry’s mouth and tries to even out his breathing.

“Fuck, Harry” Louis pants into the curve of his elbow and sits down beside him, opening his arms for his student to lay into. Harry’s face is sweaty and his cock is curved obscenely into his tummy, eyes ablaze and lips so red it looks painful. His voice cracks roughly and deliciously as he asks, “Was I good, Lou? Did I do good, daddy?” And he’s looking at him with such earnest, as if he’s worried about having sucked Louis’ cock _wrong_. Louis replies by pulling Harry closer into his chest, kissing the perspiration on his face. “Such a good job, baby. My good little boy, such a good little Harry for daddy.” Harry’s nodding and sighs in relief, snuggling into his armpit and gently rutting against his thigh, whimpering into Louis’ chest.

“Hey, Harry?”

He looks up at him with bambi eyes and cherry lips.

He props him up on all fours, after grasping his cock and pumping it twice, when his student looks back at him with anxious eyes. Louis tightens his grip on his hips and yanks back, noses at the soft curve of Harry’s bum, kissing fervorously along the back of his thighs and spreading his cheeks apart. He lingers along Harry’s spine, petting his shoulders and hair, telling him how beautiful he looks, such a good boy for daddy. He licks a generous stripe onto Harry’s pink hole and Harry gasps out a soft “oh”, almost falling forward. Louis gets a more firm grip on his student, fingernails leaving crescent moons in their wake, and licks at his hole in earnest, tongue sharp and pointed while one hand caresses his balls. Harry’s moaning without restrain now, fucking himself onto Louis’ mouth, “Fuck, yes, daddy. Right there, keep going, deeper, daddy, deeper.”

Louis feels himself thickening again and when Harry reaches a hand for his own aching cock he smacks it away, spontaneously slapping one of his arse cheeks and licking the blossom of red.

Without saying a word Louis sucks two fingers into his mouth before working their way inside Harry alongside his tongue. Harry’s fucking his hips back desperately now, having fallen forward onto his forearms and begging Louis to please, daddy, please touch my cock but Louis withholds, drops the hand that isn’t inside his student and jerking himself slowly, almost painfully. When he curves his fingers slightly Harry bolts away quickly before pushing back violently, throwing his head back and panting, “There, daddy there, moremoremore.”

He keeps his fingers on Harry’s prostate, working his tongue along the outer muscle and sucking filthy bruises on his cheeks. It’s like this that Harry comes with a shout, knees giving way and falling flat on his belly. With two fingers still inside a sated, whimpering Harry, Louis tugs at his own cock, pumping sharply few times before his eyes sear white and he shoots onto Harry’s back, ribbons of white in the foreground of spotted colors. He lays atop the younger boy, kissing his skin and scratching at his sides peacefully while Harry humps into the mattress.

As if on cue, the phone rings and Harry turns to look at his teacher with saucer eyes for only a moment before they’re scattering to grab clothes, stumbling from exertion. They dress wordlessly and scamper towards the lounge, collecting sheet music while simultaneously trying to cool their heated cheeks. Louis feels almost ashamed, not knowing what to say to close their unique lesson before waiting another two weeks to meet again. He feels his chance slip away and Harry kisses his cheek and walk towards the front door.

“Harry,” he tries hesitently, “I -” But his mother opens the door, takes an abrupt step back when she sees the two so close to the entrance.

“Thank you for the lesson, Mr Tomlinson,” his student cuts him off quickly with a blush high on his cheeks, “I learned a lot, yeah? Next time, will you teach me more of the stuff we did today?” He drops his eyes as he asks but Louis can see the smirk. He fish mouths and nods, “Yeah, sure Harry.”

“Sorry for being so late; not only did I have loads of work to do but this bloody weather caused such traffic on my way over. Harry wasn’t a bother was he?” his mum asks, petting Harry’s sweaty hair and retracting her hand, confused.

“Er, no of course not. Was a great time, eh?” Harry snickers into his sleeve as Louis swallows audibly.

They bid their goodbyes and Louis watches the two of them settle into the car, Harry drawing a small cock into the window and licking a stripe along the side as they drive away. Louis smacks his forehead onto the cool front door and swears to himself that in two weeks time he’ll be balls deep into that boy and groans a complaint to his empty lounge.

 


End file.
